


D.I.D.

by FindMeIfYouDare



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Damsels in Distress, F/M, Funny, Reader-Insert, d.i.d
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 07:23:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11157051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FindMeIfYouDare/pseuds/FindMeIfYouDare
Summary: You're not a damsel and you're not in distress... But, should you find yourself in such a situtation, it is recommended to send out a D.I.D.





	D.I.D.

“You look like a damsel in distress to me?” Dean snickers, as he tries to lower you gently from where you were strung up from the ceiling. “All helpless and in need of prince charming!”

When you land on your feet, you give him a scathing glare. “Dean, darling – I’m only going to tell you this once. I’m a damsel, I’m in distress, I can handle it. Have a nice day!” You sway when you lower your arms for a moment, then blink away the wooziness. 

Dean stands nearer you, ready to catch you should you fall. “Easy there, princess.”

“I loathe you with every fiber of my body.” You hiss, holding out your wrists for him to unmanacles them. “Get these stupid things off me.” 

Smiling, Dean takes them off and rubs your chafed wrists tenderly. “Need to be more careful.”

You reach up and pat his cheek. “I’m always careful. If I really needed help I’d send out a D-I-D call.” 

“I’ll hold you to it!” Dean smirks. “Come on I left Sammy outside to finish off the last of them.” With that the two of you exit the warehouse. Dean guiding you with a protective arm thrown about your shoulders.

~

It isn’t until months later that the D-I-D finally comes into play.

“Well, what do we have here?” you muse, twirling the machete in your hand. “Quite the sight, if I do say so myself.”

Dean’s hanging in a similar position to what he saved you from months ago, except the frown on his face is even more murderous. “Shut up, (y/n).” he grouses, as he glares at you with as much anger as he can muster.

You leisurely find the mechanism to get him down. “I’ve always wanted to be a dashing knight. Sure, I’m not quite muscled enough, but my thighs are fabulous.”

“Don’t start,” groans Dean as he lands heavily on his feet. “I do not need to be thinking about your thighs right now.”

A laugh leaves your lips. “Come on, Dean.” You giggle, and go over to help undo his wrist restraints. “I have a thing for pretty damsels like you.”

He groans again and rubs his, now free, wrists. “I’m serious! And not a word of this to Sammy either.”

“Word of what?” asks Sam, as he enters from the room where you’d freed him minutes earlier. “Whatever weird code word you two use?”

Dean shoots him a glare, then narrows his eyes on you. “You better not say anything.”

“What does D-I-D mean anyway?”

You bite your lip and clutch Dean tightly. “I’ve got to tell him…”

“No.”

“It means,” you start to say, trying to suppress your amusement.

“Don’t.”

“Damsel in distress.”

“ _(Y/n)_.”

Dean drops his head in embarrassment as Sam cracks up laughing. 

“You sent (y/n) a D-I-D call? A damsel in distress signal?”

“Shut up!” whines Dean, as he attempts to hide his growing blush. “It’s our special thing.”

“Uh huh,” agrees an amused Sam.

You peck Dean’s cheek. “Don’t worry, Dean. I’m still the dashing knight so I’ll go slay the giant sasquatch for you.” Before he can stop you, you let out a loud war cry and leap on Sam who lets out an undignified shriek. The two of you play fight the rest of the way out as Dean follows laughing.


End file.
